


Just kiss me and then tell me it's going to be fine.

by emef



Category: British Comedy RPF
Genre: M/M, Pining, anonymous letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2020-10-13 03:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20575985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emef/pseuds/emef
Summary: What if — what ifJohnhas been sending him anonymous letters? Surely not. But. But what if hehas?





	1. Anonymous

**Author's Note:**

> Important story note: this is set in a non-specific time and in an alternate universe where nobody has long term partners.
> 
> Infinite thanks to marginaliana for beta, and to Cris for the characterization help, read throughs, and enabling.

Later, Elis won't be able to remember when he received the first letter. He’ll remember opening the envelope and noticing it’s handwritten, but he won't remember the date.

The fact that it’s handwritten is the main unusual thing about it, but it’s also anonymous. It was delivered directly to Radio X, so there's no postage. The content as such isn't unusual — just two paragraphs about London, and about Elis. Something about how much it means to the city when Elis is there.

Reading it makes Elis feel confused for a moment, wondering what to do with it. He wasn’t given the handbook on this, he’s not sure how to react. The letter is very thoughtful, but it doesn’t include specific questions, comments or requests. A mixed signal, really. Elis stares at it for nearly an entire minute, waiting for his brain to come up with a response to the letter’s existence, but it doesn’t.

He pockets it and gets distracted by… who knows by what. A gust of wind. And Elis forgets about the letter; he only remembers it when he gets another one the following week. It looks like it’s been written with the same pen, and mentions a joke Elis told the week before. Interestingly, it also thanks him for not including the previous letter in the podcast intro. The author had meant to ask not to be read out the previous week, he says, but he’d forgotten. If Elis stopped to give that any thought, he’d notice that this is a bit strange, but Elis tends to take information that doesn’t make sense and store it in a drawer in his brain called _figure out later when there is more data._.

The letters keep coming. Elis keeps meaning to show them to John, and then forgetting. It doesn’t matter, he supposes. There’s no return address and the author doesn’t want to be mentioned on air or in the intro, so Elis doesn’t have to respond to the content. But — but the letters are so considerate and interesting and they make Elis feel… something. He can’t put his finger on it. John would know.

After the fifth or sixth letter, however, Elis stops thinking about showing them to John. Their content doesn’t change or anything - still engaging, observant opinions about comedy in general and Elis in particular. But that week Elis reads the most recent letter, and not twenty minutes later John says something that’s eerily like it. And instead of wishing he could remember to show John the letters, Elis starts to worry they’re _from_ him.

What if — what if _John_ has been sending him anonymous letters? Surely not. But. But what if he _has_? What if he has an entire secret double life that includes sending mysterious correspondence? What if he has things he wants to say to Elis, but can only bring himself to do it under the cover of anonymity?

Elis doesn’t feel like he can ask. If they _are_ from John then he must have written them anonymously for a reason. It’s a odd thought: what if John is leaving anonymous letters for him at the Radio X reception desk? And doing it so stealthily that it’s taken weeks for Elis to suspect?

The handwriting is wrong, but they do _sound_ a bit like John. Would John do something like intentionally disguise his handwriting? He wouldn't. Would he? If John wanted to send anonymous letters he would — no, no. Why would he want to send anonymous letters?

Elis can't imagine… It doesn’t fit, somehow. But all the same, he should probably let John know — as subtly as he can — that John can talk to him. 

“If there’s anything you need to talk about, John —“ he hears himself say later on, just as they’re stepping outside.

John doesn't look up from his phone. “Sorry?”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“What?”

“You can talk to me. If you need to.”

Now John looks up. His cheeks are pink and his hair looks like a baby bird and his eyes are riveting and all of his attention is on Elis. “Did someone tell you —“

“Did someone tell me what?” Elis babbles.

“Did someone tell you I’d started gambling again?”

“Uh.” Elis stares, paralyzed. If he says ‘no,’ John won’t let up until he explains himself and he doesn’t know how to do that, but if he says ‘yes’ it’ll be a lie, which is worse.

John saves him by not waiting for an answer. “I haven’t started gambling again! I can't believe that got back to you. It was a misunderstanding!”

And John’s off, describing a conversation he had the day before in minute detail. Something about a call that was obviously a wrong number, which he couldn’t help calling back, turning out to be a bookmaker. The story is very funny, but that’s not why Elis starts giggling uncontrollably.

“Sorry,” he gasps when he gets his breath back. “Sorry, John.”

“Are you _apologizing for laughing at my jokes_?”

“They weren't that funny, mate.”

That makes _John_ laugh. “So if my story isn’t funny, what was that? Nervous giggling?”

“…Sleep-deprived hysteria?”

*

After that Elis continues to receive anonymous letters every week, but he doesn’t think about whether John might be the author. That is, he doesn’t… until three months later when John reads out an email during the podcast intro, from someone asking what they should do about receiving anonymous correspondence. Elis hears himself say, “Well, you know, sometimes people just aren’t ready to sign their name yet. Maybe they need time.”

He doesn't look at John significantly as he says it, but he wants to. He wants to. He wants to look into John’s eyes and say it again: _Sometimes people just aren’t ready. They need time_.

But he doesn't, and that turns out to be nearly the end of it, since the next letter is the last. It’s longer and includes a lot of personal information about the author, who has signed it: Adrien. Adrien thanks Elis for his kind words about anonymity, about needing time. They meant a lot to him, he says.

Finally knowing the truth should be a relief, but when he reads the letter, Elis is stricken with… something. Chagrin? Is this chagrin? He stares at the paper, at the carefully drawn letters, the date, the signature, and slowly comes to realize — as something unusual starts happening to his heartbeat — that somewhere along the line he must have started _hoping_ the letters were from John. Because now he’s sad they weren’t.

*

“John?”

“Yeah?” 

“Have you -“

It’s been on his mind for so long now. So long. Elis is tired and he just wants to know. No, he _needs_ to know: does John ever…

He flounders in his own train of thought. Does John ever what? Does he ever send anonymous letters? Elis isn’t sure he can imagine himself asking that question. He might've asked if he’d had a good anecdote to go with it, but he hasn't. Just a story about imagining John was secretly sending _him_ letters.

“El. El.” The way John is saying his name suggests that he’s been trying to get his attention for some time. “Are you having a breakdown?”

“I —“ Elis considers the question. “I don’t think I am.”

“I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen you pause so long before the end of a sentence.”

“Sorry.”

John moves out of his chair to sit next to Elis. “What were you asking? Have I what?”

They’re having a pint. They’re going to some sort of event later, but now they’re having a pint. John is cheerful but he isn't… sometimes, when he’s happy, John is like a child who has been given too much sugar. And he wants everyone on earth to know every single one of his thoughts. But he’s not like that now. He’s just running a finger up and down his pint glass and looking inquiringly at Elis.

Elis looks back and opens his mouth to answer, but realizes that he doesn't know what to say. He fidgets. He looks down. He’s wearing jeans that make him look… well. He knows how they make him look. They were given to him by a costume assistant, the one who dressed him on the third season of _Josh_. She gave him pants to wear with them, because they're so form-fitting that they require special pants.

The difference between him and John, Elis thinks, is that he would do something like wear jeans that require special pants if he thought it might make his bum look good, while John… just wouldn’t. John doesn’t seem entirely aware of it when people respond to his appearance. Like now. He clearly has no idea what it’s like to sit with him on a pub bench and watch him hold a pint glass with one of his ludicrously huge hands.

“El?” John sets down the glass and inches closer to Elis on the bench. “El, what is it?”

Elis doesn’t answer immediately, he just watches John move. He feels as well as sees John raise one hand, and settle it on his arm. And he thinks: sometimes he, Elis, says what he thinks people want to hear. He says what he thinks people want to hear instead of what he should say, which is the truth. John never does that. John says what he's thinking to a fault, which is of course infuriating to everyone, including Elis. But it also makes him feel safe.

Elis looks at John’s hand, and then looks up into John’s eyes. “Have you ever got anonymous letters?”

“No, I haven’t!” For a moment, John seems to pause. He’s considering the question. And then his face shifts comically, like a shocked muppet. “Why? Have you received anonymous letters?”

“I…”

John doesn’t let him finish. He looks genuinely worried. “El, El, _have you got a stalker_?”

Elis has no idea what on earth made him say “gotten” instead of “sent” but now he’s relieved he did. John’s imagination wouldn't go to stalking (stalking!) if he thought that _sending_ anonymous correspondence was in any way normal. (Never mind _wanting to receive_ anonymous correspondence.)

“No, no. Don't know why I brought it up.”


	2. When you really think about it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a level of irony so high it can barely be described, their first row happens while they’re discussing how their first row might happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up some Elis backstory in this one.

John is always falling head over heels for people. Always. It’s something the people around him just have to accept: spending time with John Robins involves a nearly constant barrage of sudden pining.

He’s been infatuated with so many people. People he’s met in shops, people he’s met in pubs, people he’s met at work. People he doesn’t remember meeting but _does_ remember spending a single night with. And that’s not even… John has been infatuated with people he’s hardly spoken to. With people _with whom he’s exchanged a single glance._

Elis used to wonder why infatuation was so easy for John but now he thinks it’s about abandonment, probably. Somebody important left him at a sensitive time during his childhood, and now John has an overdeveloped ability to become interested in new people. As though his brain is telling him “you could be abandoned at any moment so make sure you have loads of backup sources of affection/support.”

He’s self-aware about it, at least. That’s one thing you can say about him: John Robins is mad, but he’s self-aware. And for what it’s worth, he hasn’t been infatuated with _everyone_ he’s ever met. He’s never been infatuated with Elis, for a start.

Which is surprising, when you really think about it. Not _that_ surprising, but it is a _bit_ surprising. Isn’t it? Why hasn’t he ever fallen head over heels for Elis?

Not that he would have said anything. He is straightforward and open with the women he becomes interested in, but not with men. Not out of some sort of internalized homophobia, Elis thinks — he just doesn’t know how it works. Something about gender roles.

Same-sex attractions only come with guidelines if you identify with situations out of Queer As Folk, which John doesn’t. Elis doesn’t either, but Elis tends to be surrounded by people who guess his thoughts and feelings before he does. He can still hear his first flatmate’s telling him that he’s “allowed to bring ‘round blokes and snog them if that’s what he wants, isn’t he?” Elis has never worried about coming out to anyone; he’s always just assumed they knew.

Very late one night, Elis watches their episode of Drunk History and thinks: John has never been infatuated with him and that’s surprising, but maybe it’s even more surprising that no one has ever asked Elis whether he was in love with John.

They recorded the episode ages ago but it was only recently broadcast. All Elis remembers about the filming is… not much. And he doesn't know what he expected, but it wasn't this.

In the episode John looks at him, leans in towards him, asks him for his attention in all sorts of ways. Elis knew — he _knows_ — that John and he are more physically affectionate towards each other when they've had a drink, but he’s never seen it before, has he? He’s been told about his and John’s drunken antics but he’s never been _shown them on video_.

And maybe John has always looked at him like that when he’s off his head but Elis didn’t know. Or maybe he did, but on some level he decided not to think about it. Maybe his inebriated brain knew that his sober brain wasn't equipped to process it. Maybe it doesn't mean anything. But he watches it again.

*

With a level of irony so high it can barely be described, their first row happens while they’re discussing how their first row might happen.

It starts after the show. They’re sat across from each other at a table, in the middle of a conversation they have, in fact, already had several times before.

They’ve tried to imagine their comedy duo breaking point before. With no result; Elis has always said that he’s a John Robins apologist. But today… somehow, somehow, today John _properly_ hits a nerve.

To be fair, there’s been a build-up. Elis was late — not to the point of missing the start of the show, but late — and John was passive aggressive about it. Which wasn’t unexpected, but John also hadn’t asked Elis why he’d been late, and that was. Well, sort of. Actually, Elis wouldn’t have noticed that John hadn’t asked, except that he’d been looking forward to telling him. It wasn’t a particularly good story to tell on the radio but he knew John would like it — it involved receipts he thought he’d lost and letters to not one, but two accountants. But John hadn't asked, and then, making matters worse, after the show they’d recorded the podcast intro and John had been on his phone the whole time. He only half-listened to everything Elis said, which bothered Elis, because he’d actually prepared responses to some of the emails, for a change.

John is like this all the time, Elis tells himself. Like an overly-literal adolescent who swings wildly from caring too much, to thoughtlessness, and back again. Their entire partnership is based on Elis’s ability to be unbothered. Which is genuine! He truly isn't bothered, usually! Except now he, he… he doesn't know how to…

Today, John’s _John_-ness is making Elis want to shake him, a bit. More than a bit. He knows… Elis knows that John isn't like this to be hurtful, not really? But he, he’s so…

He can be considerate. When Elis asks him to be; when he’s given clear instructions. When he agrees that there’s a reason to be considerate. He pays attention when Elis says that something matters to him.

But must Elis spell everything out to him? Must he? Must he explain everything?

Why? _Why? Why can’t John notice things?_ He’s the one who asked Elis to suggest ways in which they might have their first row. So Elis hinted at the idea of the two of them having a row because one of them has started having feelings for the other. John failed to catch on, which is unbelievably irritating. And now he just keeps asking Elis to explain!

“You cannot be this dense!” Elis hears his voice do an unexpected twisty thing. “You’re so good at everything! How can you be so bad at this?”

“This what? What is ‘this’? What am I a disaster at?”

Elis tries to communicate everything there’s ever been between them by just looking at John. “_This_.”

“El. Elis.” John reaches over the table to take both of Elis’s shoulders in his hands. “Elis. I’m so sorry. But I have no idea what you’re talking about. Genuinely.”

Elis experiences a stab of pure annoyance even as he feels himself lean in to the touch. He wants to push John over and wrestle him to the ground. Does he _really not know_?

“No, of course you haven’t any idea, it wasn’t on your schedule.” Elis says, moving away from him.

“Why are you joking? That was a serious question.” John’s voice cracks and it makes Elis crazy. Has John always framed things like he’s the victim? Doesn't he know it makes people crazy?

“I’m not joking!” Elis's voice gets louder with every word. “You really are hopeless about anything that can't be scheduled or planned or that you’ve been given instructions for!”

He expects John to argue, to say that he's wrong, but instead John’s expression shifts to something dejected and when he speaks again he sounds really sad. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s not what I think, it’s what I know!”

“Just because you can’t keep a schedule, it isn’t… scheduling things isn't a character flaw, Elis.”

Elis wants to scream. “It’s not… Of course having a schedule isn’t a character flaw.”

“Well then what are you -“

“Being dense _is_.”

John looks down at his hands, still mid-air after Elis pulled away from him. “That’s just hurtful.”

“No!” Why can't it occur to John that Elis isn't trying to hurt him — he trying to tell him something? “No it isn't! It’s real!”

“El -“

“I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m just being a real person!”

“What?”

“A real person, John. Not one of those… those fairy tales you keep imagining for yourself. Every other week.”

“What??” 

“Maybe that’s why you… Maybe if I’d always kept my distance, I would still be an idea to you, and not -“ Elis cuts himself off. 

He squeezes his eyes shut. Pinches the bridge of his nose. He didn't know he was going to say that, just then. He didn't know he wanted John to be sending him letters until he knew for sure that John wasn't. He didn't know that he wanted John to have feelings for him until he heard himself start to explain that John tends to idealize people and become infatuated with them, and that maybe the reason he wasn’t infatuated with Elis was that he’d known Elis too long to idealize him. Heard the way he said it. Like he wishes that weren’t the case.

But it’s fine. It might be fine. It’s probably fine. He stopped before embarrassing himself. So. He runs his hands through his hair and opens his eyes.

John’s face… his eyes are wide open, his jaw is practically on the floor, he's completely stopped moving. Elis watches, and John breathes in, one quick breath, and then completely stops breathing. He looks like a muppet.

It’s not fine. John has finally started noticing things. Elis thinks he might cry but he forces himself to look at John. Waits for him to say say something. Do something.

John closes his mouth and reaches out again, as though to touch Elis’s shoulder. But then he hesitates. “El, I thought, I really thought...” He looks searchingly into Elis’s eyes. “Ever since —”

Still looking like a muppet, hand frozen in mid-air, John sounds like he’s about to start babbling. But he doesn’t. He just gives Elis a lost look and shakes his head.

Elis hears himself say, “I - I’ll go. I’ll just go.”

He stands. Takes a step back, and then another. John doesn’t move, doesn’t look away, but he doesn’t stop him. So Elis turns and walks away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Cris for the in-depth answer to the question "what would make make Elis and John fight," which got this chapter started.


	3. You Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four alternate universes.

In an alternate universe, there’s an alternate Elis James who, after meeting John Robins in a pub, follows him outside the pub and inexplicably (even to himself) blurts out "have you ever kissed a man?"

The John in that alternate universe chokes on his own cigarette smoke, coughs for a bit and, having recovered, says that he hasn’t. Then neither Elis nor John speaks for a bit. Neither of them speaks for what feels like a long time. The Elis James in this universe doesn’t jump in to fill the conversation void with the first thing that comes to mind. He waits through the silence, and it’s John who speaks first. John asks, in a tentative voice, "why? were you... I mean..."

John also turns to face Elis. They were standing close together, but side by side, so it wasn’t weird. Having turned around, John’s chest is practically to Elis’s shoulder, but he doesn’t put any distance between them. He isn’t moving closer, but he isn’t moving away either.

And Elis, picturing all the opportunities for making unusual choices he missed in university, hears himself say, "yeah, maybe.”

*

In a different alternate universe, there’s another alternate John Robins who, the fourth or fifth time he sees Elis James, mistakes a casual question for a pickup line.

Later on, he’ll realize that he couldn’t explain how it happened. Perhaps it’s something about the way Elis looked at him as he said it. Perhaps John has watched one too many films in which a Welsh actor plays a sexually ambiguous character. Or perhaps it could just have been him? Could John have been wanting this relatively new acquaintance to proposition him?

All Elis did was stand outside a pub and ask John what he was up to for the rest of the evening. A normal thing to say, mid-conversation, but John thought he said it the way some people say “let me show you the rest of the house” in the middle of a house party. Or “want to get some air?” Or “want to see my etchings?”

In any case, John is now in the awkward position of needing to turn Elis down. Which he wants to do efficiently. But not rudely. Not in any way that might imply that there is anything wrong with alternate universe Elis. He likes Elis, he wants to spare his feelings. He wants — he wants Elis to know that he considers him very brave to be putting himself out there, really. And he wants Elis to know that if things were different, that is, if he, John… Well Elis would be top of the list, wouldn’t he? He’s clever and there’s something about the way he gazes at you when you’re speaking —

Which is how, in the middle of this increasingly incoherent thought process, and with the very laudable intention of letting Elis down gently, John prefaces his eventual rejection with these words:

“I think you’re very attractive...”

And never gets any further.

At some point in the future, after acknowledging that he couldn’t explain precisely why he believed Elis to be propositioning him and reviewing the full sequence of events a few dozen times, alternate universe John Robins will understand that these words made it sound like he was the one propositioning Elis.

Which explains why, just after saying it, just when he’s about to say “but I don’t really think of you that way,” Elis moves closer to him. He moves a bit slowly, but with intent. Moves the way people do when they want to kiss you.

*

In a third alternate universe, Elis’s gig diaries include this line:

_27th of February, 2005. Met John Robins, who is very pretty._

Alternate Elis forgets he’s written that until, years later, he sees the diary in John’s hands. Sees him hold the diary with one hand and excitedly point at a spot on the page with the other. Until he hears him triumphantly proclaiming “_there_ I am!”

In fairness to John, Elis _did_ bring the entire diary — not just the passages he wanted for the ‘Elis’s Gig Diaries’ segment — to the studio, and left it right there where anyone could pick it up. He’d just… forgotten. A bit. About the private nature of all the things he chose not to read out loud on the radio. He doesn’t even know why he wrote that. It doesn’t even sound like him.

John opens his mouth and Elis realizes he’s about to read aloud. He should be rushing forward to grab the diary out of John’s hands, but he’s experiencing some sort of brain lag. He just stands there. John doesn’t notice his paralysis. Dave, who is watching John, doesn’t notice either.

John all but shouts “27th OF FEBRUARY, 2005, Met JOHN ROBINS, who is —”

And then he stops stops. Or rather, pauses. The way John sometimes does when he’s reading aloud.

“Well, go on then,” Dave says. “What are you, John?”

“I —“

Elis’s brain finally catches up. “‘Met John Robins,” he interjects. “Who is _very funny_! Sorry, John, my handwriting is absolutely terrible.”

He moves forward, but John doesn’t look up from the diary. He doesn’t move at all: he’s the one experiencing paralysis now. Elis reaches out and gently — so gently— takes the diary out of his hands. “Sorry,” he says again.

*

In a fourth alternate universe, John watches Striking Vipers and spends two entire evenings thinking about it about the logistics of recreating it. He actually thinks about it for longer than that, but two evenings is the time it takes for him to realize what he’s doing.

Alternate John doesn’t mean to spend that long planning the search for a similar video game (not to mention planning the campaign to get Elis to play it with him,) he just does it. Without questioning it. And two entire evenings is the time it takes for him to stop and notice the implications of that.

Alternate John knows himself; he knows he’s simultaneously emotionally intelligent, and thick. Currently, he is being thick. Well — no. Currently he is being thick, and regarding this particular matter, he _has been_ thick for fifteen years.

But he can change. John has pivoted and rebranded professionally; doing the same thing for his personal life as well can’t be _that_ hard. He is very late to the emotional intelligence party but maybe he can still make it. Maybe he can still learn to yearn and be honest with himself about it. And maybe, as well, with the other relevant person.


	4. The Weight of Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Elis stares. They both stare. A truly unreasonable amount of time goes by as they stand there, facing each other like scruffy, confused statues._
> 
> _John breaks. “Please say something.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed.

Sometimes, John will stare down at his phone, fiddle with the wording of a text message to Elis, or trying to work out how to get him to respond to text messages, and he’ll look up to see Elis walking towards him. And Elis will see him look up and he’ll smile.

Sometimes, John is so caught up in his own train of thought that he’ll not really respond to that smile, but sometimes, his heart beats a bit faster and he feels something that seems important and precious and wrenching.

Sometimes, Elis says things that are cruel in a funny way, which should be jarring coming from someone like him but isn’t, because whenever he says something truly biting it’s just a reminder that there isn’t much that really gets past him. And a reminder that he’s nice, but more than that, he’s clever. And he could absolutely destroy John, if he wanted.

And sometimes, when it’s so late it’s early and light is just about to pierce through the darkness, John acknowledges that he has been deliberately ignoring how that makes him feel, almost since the first time he and Elis met.

Anyway John is walking towards Elis’s flat.

It’s 6:51 pm and before heading out John put product in his hair and now he feels hyperconscious of his environment. The breeze. The speed at which he’s walking. The people walking past him. The sunlight, rosy gold on the pavement. A cat scowling at him through a window.

Two hours before, Elis nearly said that he… And the thing is, Elis will never ask him to talk about this even if — especially if — he wants John to respond. Elis doesn’t ask for things. He’s funny and hardworking and he loves seeing people be happy but he doesn’t ask for things. He particularly doesn’t ask for things if he really wants them.

So John has to check. Which is just as well because he also needs to clarify something. He needs to — they need to talk.

Dialogue is important.

John rings the doorbell.

When Elis answers the door, he’s wearing a jumper John hasn’t seen on him since about 2007. It’s blue, looks hand-knit, and it is the least form-fitting thing John has ever seen him wear. It brings out his eyes and it looks like The Past and John’s heart just…

“Oh, hello,” Elis says. Like nothing’s happened.

He lets John in but once the door is closed he awkwardly stands just inside. John stares at the jumper. Elis takes his glasses off and puts them back on.

The temptation to start talking about something — anything — other than what brought him here is very, very strong. John mind even supplies him with ideas. Safe topics. Innocuous topics. ‘I left something here last time I came around’ or something.

“El.” His voice sounds too loud. “I’m — you said that I —”

Elis takes his glasses off again. He looks pained. He looks like he would rather be _anywhere._

John soldiers on. “I’ve been thinking of you as… When we met, I thought maybe you would — Sorry, this is going to be incoherent but I don’t know how else to — after I met you, I thought, I hoped maybe you would think of me as someone you would be attracted to —”

Elis looks up, a bit suddenly, like that isn’t what he thought John would say. To be fair, it isn’t what John thought he would say either. He can’t believe he’s succeeded in actually broaching the topic, if he’s honest.

“And I never… And I thought maybe when it came to…” John stops speaking. Oh god, oh god, he thinks. How is he going to say this? _How is he going to say this?_

Elis doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing. It’s very late afternoon — dusk — and the light is hitting his eyes in just that way that make them mesmerizing. They’re like moonstones. Maybe this is all about to go terribly wrong. But John really, really needs to clarify.

“When we met I hoped that you would be attracted to me, but I...I think I imagined that if you were, um, attracted to me, then you would know what to do.”

Elis blinks.

“I,” John clears his throat. “I waited for you to say something, or to do something. And you didn’t. So I decided to get used to the idea that you… didn’t. Want me. That way.”

Elis blinks again and opens his mouth like he’s about to say something. But John holds up a hand.

“That was a mistake, and I’m an idiot,” John says, looking down. “And I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s brought this on today. I mean - what brought on the things that you said. What happened to you before you said it, or what I did to — to provoke you. But it’s important for me that you know,” John’s voice breaks over the word ‘important’ and he stops to take a breath.

Elis still isn’t moving. His arms are crossed, like he’s hugging himself. Maybe he’s trying to disappear into his own clothes.

“It's important for me that you know, “ he repeats. “That I don’t think of you differently because you’re a real person. A person who reacts to me in a way that I can’t control. If anything, I… what’s different about you is that knowing everything about you hasn’t broken the spell. I think you’re magic, I think that you’re right, I don’t idealize you any more. But it’s because I couldn’t come up with an idea like you.”

Elis stares. They both stare. A truly unreasonable amount of time goes by as they stand there, facing each other like scruffy, confused statues.

John breaks. “Please say something.”

Elis takes a step towards John. It's surreal; John can see him moving but he can’t process what’s happening. He watches Elis move into John's space, reach up to cup John’s face, and —

John pushes him away. “No, no.”

“What?!”

“No! No. Not - argh. I just - this is too much at once. I need to… I have to get used to the idea.”

“Oh. Want to watch telly?”

*

They’re sitting on opposite ends of Elis’s couch. It’s familiar and utterly, utterly surreal.

“What do you want to watch?”

“I…” John flounders. “Whatever you were watching?”

Elis was watching Spaced. It’s the last episode of the first season, the one where Tim gets back with his ex and Daisy writes a bunch of articles while the Murder, She Wrote theme music plays in the background.

“How many times do you think you’ve watched this?” John asks, ten minutes in. Inadequate attempts at conversation have to be better than silence.

“Dunno. Loads. I had it on a loop when —”

He means, after he broke up with… “Oh, yeah.”

From the corner of his eye, John catches Elis looking at him. He stops himself returning Elis’s gaze twice before remembering that, oh right, it’s fine. It’s fine.

He feels a bit mad.

“It could be your topic,” he says, scrambling for something normal to say. “On Mastermind.”

When Elis doesn’t answer, John looks at him. He’s staring at the screen. Jessica Hynes’s character, Daisy, is slumped over a typewriter.

“I thought you’d written me letters.” Elis says, toneless.

“What?”

“I got — someone sent me anonymous letters. Well, anonymous for the most part. The last one wasn’t.”

“What?”

Elis sighs. “They started last year. I didn’t know I wanted them to be from you until I knew they weren’t.”

“El, what —”

“Sorry.”

John fumbles about for the remote control and pauses the program. “El, what was in the letters.”

“Nothing really, just —”

“Owain. Elis. James. Tell me what was in those letters and, more importantly, tell me how good — or bad — the writing was, _right now_.”

Elis starts laughing. It starts slowly and then builds, until he’s bent over double with tears in his eyes. “D’you know, I think I always knew they weren’t nearly good enough to be from you but I… I’d started thinking that if you were clever enough to disguise your handwriting, you had to be clever enough to make your writing a bit pedestrian, on purpose.”

John, who was once described by comedian Joe Lycett as an “emotional size queen” (“A what?” “_Ooh, ooh, give me all that emotion, it’s not too big, I can take it_.” “Right.”) is dumbfounded. This may, in fact, be too many feelings about too many things in one day. Elis thinks he’s clever and - no. Elis thinks he’s more clever than he actually is. And a bit devious. Bloody hell.

Elis, still bent over himself in the shape of a giggling pretzel, adds, “I wanted them so much to be from you that my mind decided to ignore the fact that your pride would never, ever allow such a thing.”

“Christ.”

“The letters weren’t...” Elis waves his hands about, somehow communicating that the letters weren’t emotional, via gesticulation. “Whereas if you —”

“I would write you _so many letters_.” John gushes and reflexively reaches out to take hold of Elis’s hands. He doesn’t mean to do it, he just… And now both of Elis’s hands are in his and they’re staring at each other, breathing hard. John feels churned up and he’s shaking and he leans over a bit and closes his eyes. He tries to aim his face in the right direction.

The kiss is completely surreal until Elis shifts and opens his mouth a bit. John feels a rushing, no, _crashing_ wave of lust that has him moaning and manhandling Elis down into the couch cushions. Elis wraps his legs around him.

An embarrassingly short time later, John bursts into tears and Elis rocks him back and forth while making “shhh” noises and telling him it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

“I’m not sad, I just —”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“I wanted you for so long but I didn’t, I wasn’t honest with myself, I’m —”

“I know. You’re a bit thick.”

John stops crying as abruptly as he’d started and sits up. “_I’m_ a bit thick? You imagined an _entire scenario_ in which I sent you anonymous letters, you utter lunatic.”

“I could’t think straight, I was infatuated.”

“What do you mean, ‘was?’”

“Dunno, I might change my mind now.”

“What.”

“I didn’t know you had so little stamina.”

“Right, that’s it,” John says, and he pushes Elis down.

Elis growls. “Yes! Put me in my place, John.”

“You’re lucky you have that chunky bum.”

“Oh, God, yes, yes _objectify me_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End note 1:
> 
> The Joe Lycett observation is made up.
> 
> End note 2:
> 
> Dear Cris,
> 
> When I said I'd write you an Elis/John story I never meant for it to take this long. I'm so sorry! I hope you liked the ending.
> 
> xx -mf

**Author's Note:**

> This story’s alternate title is “JUST KISS HIM ALREADY.”
> 
> If you even remotely enjoyed this story, please oh please oh please comment and/or come talk to me on twitter (@the_emef.)


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